With dark hair, brown eyes and olive skin I often find myself as the subject of a game of charades. There are more than about ten ethnicities I could pass for. But no one ever guesses Afghan. “Afghan”? They ask with disbelief, “oh.. you don’t look afghan?” they say. Well, how would you know what an Afghan looks like? But what they are most confused about is why I don’t have an accent, and how come I’m not wearing a burka. Though they never say that out loud, no one ever dose. I often have to explain that I was born in Canada and I am fluent in English.
Growing up Afghan-Canadian entails much more than one may think. Whether it's having to explain to …show more content…
No mehmooni is complete without countless cups of scorching hot tea. It must be extra hot because there is nothing worse than giving an Afghan a “warm” cup of tea. I remember one time at my dad's cousin's house when tea was being passed around and I made the mistake of saying “no thank you, I don't drink much tea.” “Vhatt? you don't drink tea?” she asked and again repeating it back to herself “she doesn't drink tea.” Somehow convinced that repeating it will make less true. After that for the next few mehmooni when tea was being passed around the host would skip past me and say “you don't drink tea”. I know better now, it’s easier if I just take the tea and keep it in my hand because I know as soon as I put it down i will be offered another …show more content…
They insist that everything was invented in Afghanistan and still believe in old ideologies like; “A good afghan girl” will help her mom with household chores, while the men never lift a finger. Or how “ a good Afghan girl” will marry a Afghani boy her family approves of. Although, photographic evidence of her smoking Marlboro cigarette from her youth suggest otherwise. And don't even try to challenge her or else you will be getting a long lecture about respecting your elders, even though you were just expressing an opinion. Oh and don't worry, she won't forget to forward her concerns to your parents, and remind them how she wasted her youth travelling from one country to the next so her ungrateful children could have a better education. I think I hear this story once a week, though it’s never boring since major aspects of the story change each